


After You, Who?

by h_d



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Artist Merlin, Banter, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2642945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_d/pseuds/h_d
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slow romance grows between Arthur and Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Start of an Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> Title and inspiration drawn from John Barrowman's version of [After You, Who?](http://youtu.be/bo_vDfI1Px8)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur are friends who decide to move in together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [Camelot Drabble](http://camelot-drabble.livejournal.com) prompt: Mistake.

Gwaine was flirting with the bartender. He was leaning on the bar, his chin in his hand, his head cocked at just the right angle to let his long hair fall gracefully to one side, and his body bent into a shameless arc. Arthur rolled his eyes and glanced at Merlin.

Merlin's eyes were fixed firmly on Gwaine's arse. When he noticed Arthur looking at him, he nudged Arthur with an elbow.

"What? I know how much footie you two play together, surely you've noticed how fit he is," Merlin said.

"Not as such, no," Arthur said. "I have a personal rule."

"What sort of rule?" Merlin said, sounding amused.

"I never think of my friends that way," he replied. "It's fine for other people, of course. But I hold myself to a higher standard."

Merlin chuckled. "You are a pompous arse, you know that, right?"

"So I've heard," Arthur replied, unconcerned. "Now, speaking of footie, are you coming to watch us play this weekend?"

"Sorry, mate, I can't. Have to hit the pavement, look for a new place to live," Merlin said. "Since Will moved in with his girlfriend, I can't afford the rent anymore."

Arthur hadn't known Merlin very long, but he enjoyed his company. Arthur and Gwaine had been friends since university. Merlin was Gwaine's neighbour, and when Gwaine invited him along to a pub night a few months ago, everyone in the group had liked him instantly. So Merlin kept coming along, and he often showed up to cheer at their weekly footie matches, as well.

Merlin had a sharp wit, peculiar but fashionable clothes, and a great deal of artistic talent. He was working hard to become established as a painter. As an accountant in his father's company, Arthur's hours were long, and he had come to value Merlin's easy friendship. Arthur liked the thought of spending more time with him.

"You could move in with me," Arthur said. "I have a spare room I've never done anything with."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "I...that might be a mistake, Arthur," he said.

"Why on Earth?" Arthur asked.

"You're probably a serious neat freak," Merlin said, shrugging. "Your shirts are always tucked into your trousers. It's a little unsettling, to be honest."

Arthur laughed. "I'm actually not a neat freak at all," he said. "I pay a cleaning service to come by twice a week."

"Oh. Does someone dress you, too?" Merlin said.

Arthur glared at him. "I dress myself, thank you. I think it's important to maintain a certain image."

Merlin scrunched his brows together, probably thinking of another retort, but after a moment he simply nodded. "If my messiness isn't a problem, I really do need a place to live."

Arthur smiled. "Great. Come by tomorrow and we'll get a key made for you. You can move in whenever you like."

Merlin shook his head, feigning wonderment. "That's shockingly easy-going behaviour for you," he said.

"Oh, stuff it," Arthur replied. "We should have a toast, if you're done mocking me."

"I'm done for the moment, I suppose," Merlin said, then tentatively raised his pint glass. "What are we toasting?"

Arthur lifted his glass too. "To living together," he said, and clinked his glass with Merlin's.

They shared a smile. Arthur took a tiny sip, but Merlin swallowed down most of his nearly-full pint.

Merlin reappeared from behind the glass with a foam moustache on his upper lip. Arthur reached over and swiped it off with his thumb. Merlin blushed and averted his eyes.

"Are you the sort of flatmate who's going to groom me a lot? If so, you might want to consider getting a pet chimp instead," Merlin said.

"You're very difficult," Arthur said. "This is going to be quite an adventure."

Merlin nodded in mock solemnity, then grinned. "Indeed," he said.


	2. A Narrow Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur learns about Merlin's talents and considers his own principles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the [Camelot Drabble](http://camelot-drabble.livejournal.com) prompt: Path. I've slightly modified my original post.

It turned out that it was as easy for Arthur to live with Merlin as it had always been to spend time with him. After only a few weeks, they established a comfortable routine.

Because Arthur earned a great deal of money at his job, he was only charging Merlin a small portion of the flat's full rent. Merlin was responsible with his money, but he had no reliable income. It was common for him to sell a painting one month and struggle to make ends meet the next. Arthur knew, also, that Merlin rented a small studio space across town. Since Arthur hadn't planned on taking on a flatmate at all, there was no need for Merlin to also pay half the rent on Arthur's flat.

In return for Arthur's generosity, Merlin took over the grocery shopping and the cooking. Arthur learned that Merlin was, in fact, very talented in the kitchen. Even though their chosen careers were quite different, Merlin and Arthur's schedules were similar; they were both early risers, and most mornings Merlin made an elaborate meal, such as pancakes with bacon; porridge and fruit; fresh bread with delicious cheeses that Arthur had never heard of; and many other treats.

Even on the weekends, Arthur no longer waited until the last possible moment to get out of bed. He made the time to fully savour these breakfasts. Aside from the food, it was a real pleasure to chat with Merlin first thing in the morning, whether they were teasing each other about their bedhead or having more serious discussions.

One Sunday morning, Arthur bit into a crumpet topped with butter, honey, and cheddar cheese, which was amazingly only one part of the meal Merlin had prepared.

“I'm surprised that you never went to culinary school, mate. Your art is incredible, but cooking would've been something to fall back on, right?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded and laughed. “A lot of blokes have said that to me,” he replied. “When I spend the night with someone, I always try to make them breakfast. It's not always possible, mind you. A lot of people our age don't bother keeping anything in the pantry except a jar of mustard.”

Arthur furrowed his brow, considering the other men who had benefited from Merlin's culinary skills, and those who had missed out on breakfast, but certainly not on whatever _other_ skills Merlin possessed. Arthur didn't like thinking about any of it, but he shoved that feeling to one side of his mind, vaguely planning to examine it at some later date.

He waved a hand at Merlin, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, you see, I'm on a rather narrow path, and I can't imagine ever leaving it,” Merlin said. “I've been on this path almost all my life. I've always loved to paint and draw. At first, I mainly created landscapes, and they were like little worlds to me, places I had made that I could visit at any time. You'll probably laugh, but when I began drawing imaginary creatures, it was the same thing. I was an only child, and I was drawing friends for myself.”

“I would never laugh at something as adorable as that,” Arthur said, grinning widely.

“Oh, shut up.” There was no anger in Merlin's tone, but the tips of his ears had turned red. “But yeah, everyone was impressed with what I could do. And refrigerator magnets weren't enough for my mum. Oh no, she _framed_ my efforts,” he said, with a laugh. “Back then I always drew fantastical things, and yet somehow my family and my teachers all praised their realism, because obviously, they all knew what imaginary locations and monsters were meant to look like.”

“You don't do much whimsical art now, though,” Arthur said.

“No, not very often,” Merlin said. “I think people saw something special in my art and did whatever they could to encourage me. I kept drawing, mostly the pictures in my head. When I was 12, my art teacher bought me a sketchbook and some watercolours. That was when my style became more realistic. I learned some techniques and started recreating what I saw with my eyes, instead of only what was in my imagination. I knew I had a gift for it, and pursuing it was always the only choice for me.” He shrugged.

“I didn't mean to suggest you should be doing something more practical instead. Seriously, I've never seen anything like your paintings. I don't pretend to understand composition, but I love to look at them. The colours are so vibrant,” Arthur said. "I do understand what you mean about getting lost in the scenes you create, because it happens to me a little bit when I look at them, too."

Merlin smiled with what looked like real pleasure. “Thank you, Arthur. You should come along with me next weekend. I have a gallery opening, and I'm hoping to get lucky.”

“You want me to help you get laid?” Arthur asked, clutching his hand to his chest as though the mere thought of sex horrified him.

“No, arsehole. I'm hoping to make some big sales,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes.

Arthur laughed. “I knew what you meant. Sure, I'll come. Thanks for inviting me.”

Arthur was glad that Merlin was staying with him now, for Merlin's own financial security, since earning a good living in the arts could be very difficult. But he wasn't going to let Merlin know about that. It would have made their friendly arrangement seem sordid, far too much like someone rich pampering a lover with money and gifts. Arthur had no objection to other people living in those kinds of situations, but it wasn't something that appealed to him. He suspected Merlin would agree. More to the point, Arthur and Merlin were just friends.

It was strange, Arthur mused, how often he had to remind himself of the status of their relationship. Arthur hadn't lived with anyone since moving out of his father's mansion, and he appreciated the easy domesticity of sharing breakfasts and dinners with Merlin and of sprawling together on the sofa to watch films together in the evenings. But Merlin was his friend, and Arthur didn't date his friends.

Arthur's mother was dead, his father was distant, and he had been an only child, too, until his stepsister Morgana came into his life. Morgana's mother was just as cold as Uther, and Morgana and Arthur had never gotten along.

Just as Merlin had always had his artwork, Arthur's principles were the only real constant in his life. Arthur wasn't sure he'd even recognise himself if something so fundamental about him were to change.


End file.
